


Drowning in a Sea of Suspects

by MorganAW



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: CC By-SA, Case Fic, Drama, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22796608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorganAW/pseuds/MorganAW
Summary: After the devastating conclusion of Joe Miller's trial Alec Hardy is ready to cut ties and leave Broadchurch. Unfortunately, another violent crime shakes the community and he finds that some ties are too strong to cut forcing him to stay and see the investigation through. Half the bloody town are suspects when the unthinkable happens to someone who, quite frankly, they've all thought about pushing off a cliff.
Relationships: Alec Hardy & Ellie Miller, Alec Hardy/Ellie Miller
Comments: 6
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Licensing Note:** The story line and characters are inspired from _Broadchurch_ created by Chris Chibnall. Text from _Broadchurch_ is in green. If you would like to turn off the colored text, click "Hide Creator’s Style" at the top of the page. The tense, pronouns, or wording of these quotes may be slightly modified to fit the scene. All original content and plot for _Drowning in a Sea of Suspects_ is released under a [Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/) license by Morgan A. Wyndham. Cross-published on fanfic.net by [MorganAW](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/9748539/).

Alec Hardy let out a hard, exhausted, satisfied sigh as he watched Lee Ashworth, Claire Ripley, and Ricky Gillespie marched out in handcuffs for transportation. This case had destroyed his marriage, his public credibility, and nearly killed him. Now the long nightmare was over. They now had solid evidence, both bodies, and taped confessions. He was certain that Claire would circle back to her baseless accusations against him out of spite, but given her lack of credibility he doubted much would come of it. For all intents and purposes he could get on with his life now. He could take his patched up heart and walk away from Broadchurch with its endless sky and people who were so outwardly friendly but could turn into a mob at the drop of a headline. 

“Quite a sight, isn’t it?” Hardy turned as his former supervisor joined him at the railing of the station balcony to see the prisoners off. 

“Aye, I was afraid I wouldn’t live to see the day,” he said with a morbid laugh.

“I hear that’s all sorted now?”

“Little scrap of metal in there now keeping everything on track,” he replied, rubbing his hand gingerly over the healing scab.

“Good,” she said and looked at him appraisingly. “You did good work today. Three murderers in custody won’t make up for the one that was released today but it certainly helps balance the score a bit.”

Hardy merely nodded and watched as the transportation van left the station. He waited until it faded out of sight before turning to go back inside. He had his hand on the door handle when she called out, “DI Hardy, may I have a moment of your time?” She calls after him, “in private.”

He pauses, hand clenched on the handle. He was so close to putting this all behind him. He took a breath and turned to face her. “I’m not a detective inspector any more, DS Jenkinson, you made certain of that ... Sir,” he tacked the honorific at the end to just skirt past insubordination – a tactic he’d picked up from Miller. 

“Your heart made certain of that, Hardy. You collapsed and nearly died in the middle of a chase and a killer get away in the process. There are protocols for a reason.”

“Just one case, that’s all I asked for. I just needed to solve that case.”

“And so you did, by the end of the day as it were.”

“Barely.”

“In any event,” she said, regaining an air of command in her tone, “now that your health is back in order I was wondering if you might help me out. I’m afraid I’m in a bit of a tight spot.”

“Is that so?” He asked, intrigued that she’d be asking favors of him.

“The thing is, there’s been another violent crime, attempted murder at the moment but only time will tell. We’ve yet to fill your position, you see, so we’re in a bit of a bind.”

“You’ve had months! How could you not find some other poor bastard to trap here in that amount of time?”

“To be frank, I was rather hoping to keep it open for DS Miller when the dust of the trial settled and she was ready to come back. However, after todays ruling that no longer seems feasible, at least not for the time being.”

“Bloody hell,” he scowled and rubbed a hand over his eyes. He owed Miller, he couldn’t have solved the Sandbrook murders without her. She’d kept him going when he was running on fumes and he’d tried to reciprocate that during the trial, but her world was still shattered. When she’d picked up the pieces she deserved to have that job waiting for her. He glanced at Jenkinson warily, “there’s no one else to do it?”

“As you’ve pointed out before, you’ve met my CID team and nobody is as qualified as you.”

“So bring in someone from the outside!” Hardy paced the cramped balcony of the station.

“You were present for nearly every moment of Joe Miller’s trial, baring a shockingly brief break to have your chest carved out, and I’ll need your knowledge and observations.”

Hardy stilled, “why is that relevant?”

“Before I say any more, I need to know if there was any truth to the defense’s allegations about you and DS Miller.”

“Nothing more than gossip mongering by a pack of rabid mongrels,” he fired back with a wince. His own reputation was already in tatters but he’d worried those rumors would come back to harm Miller’s career.

“No truth to any of it?”

“We work together, that’s all.” She opened her mouth as if to follow that up but he cut her off, “don’t tell me _you_ of all people are going to spout some nonsense about male and female detectives working closely at odd hours leading to...” he gestured vaguely in the air in punctuation, “and knock back gender equality in the police force by thirty years.”

“Of course not,” she snapped, “only, given the nature of this case I do need your assurances.”

“Why, who is the victim? How does this connect to the Danny Latimer case?”

“I need your word that you can be objective and won’t be stitched up by romantic entanglements.”

He gave a disgruntled sigh before calling on the highest power he could summon. “I swear on the memories of Pippa Gillespie and Danny Latimer that nothing untoward has happened between myself and Detective Sargent Miller. Now tell me who the victim is and what this has to do with Miller?”

“Forty minutes ago a group of teenagers sitting at the base of the cliff on the beach heard an altercation from above just before the victim fell screaming off the cliff landing several yards in front of them. They called it in to 999 immediately but by the time they’d run out far enough to see the top of the cliff there was no one there. The victim is in critical condition at hospital.”

“Who is the victim?” Hardy asked, half hoping half dreading to hear Joe Miller’s name.

“Sharon Bishop.”

“Miller’s solicitor?” He asked unsteadily, “well, we certainly won’t lack for suspects with motive.”

“That woman exposed every raw nerve and dirty secret she could find during the trial and now half of the town are suspects. The only reason _you’re_ in the clear is that you’ve been here at the station in full view of at least half a dozen police officers and CCTV for the past hour and a half. So, if you’re willing to help you’ll be reinstated immediately, the uniforms are waiting for you at the scene.”

He let out a low growl along with all of his hopes to escape this town. “I’m only keeping her seat warm. Christ knows how often that woman’s harped on me for stealing her job in the first place.”

“Consider it a temporary assignment if you’d like.”

“I’ll need a lift to the crime scene,” he huffed as he made his way through the station barking orders at his supervisor like she was Miller.

“Right away,” she said and motioned to the dispatcher to call one. “Oh, and Hardy?” He turned and looked at her expectantly. “Perhaps don’t refer to the victim as a ‘rabid mongrel’ from here out. She may be a wanker but she deserves justice all the same.”

~~~

“What’ve we got?” Hardy barked as he approached the tent at the edge of the cliff.

SOCO Young shot him a surprised look, “DI Hardy, I didn’t expect to see you here, weren’t you leaving town?”

“Yes, well … violent crime and all … Jenkinson reinstated me today,” he awkwardly flashed his credentials. He knew he’d never been a favorite with the local team and he was uncomfortable that they all knew about his shoddy heart and had no doubt heard the rumors and allegations tossed about in court. 

“Right. Distinct signs of a struggle up here. Scuffed footprints start on the path and move to the edge, they indicate a struggle between two people one set is larger than the other and there are distinct treads on each. We should have sizes to you later today. The disruption of the grass and the rockfall are consistent with a push or tumble over the cliff.” 

They moved to the edge and Hardy looked over at another tent on the beach below with a sinking sense of deja vu. They were only on the other side of the promontory from where they’d found Danny Latimer’s body, about a quarter mile from the caravan park. He turned away from the cliff side crime scene and started the long descent to the beach. He was halfway down the narrow dodgy steps when his mobile rang. 

He groaned as Miller’s name flashed on the screen. “Hardy,” he answered with a sigh.

“Where are you? I thought you were leaving in about an hour so I stopped by to see you off but you’re not here and it doesn’t look like you’ve packed anything yet,” Miller said in her lightning fast cadence. “If you’ve up and left without so much as saying goodbye, so help me Hardy I will track you down!”

“No, something came up and it looks like I’ll be sticking around for a bit.” At the base of the steps he turned toward the crime scene, unsurprised to find a crowd beginning to accumulate around the tape.

“What? Staying in Broadchurch? What are you on about?” He resisted the urge to explain the situation to her, to bounce suspects and leads off of her. Until she was cleared of suspicion she couldn’t be involved in the investigation.

“Look, Miller, I’m in the middle of something at the moment. Could you meet me at the station in an hour?”

“Has this something to do with the Sandbrook arrests? I thought that was all done.”

“No, this is … something different.”

“Alright then,” she sounded puzzled. 

He smiled softly to himself in anticipation of the entirely off the wall insult or speculation that would inevitably trip out of her mouth following her confused pause but he saw Olly Stevens bearing down on him so he quickly ended the call : “Great, see you in an hour Miller.” 

Before he could end the call Olly called out, “DI Hardy, does this have anything to do with the Lattimer verdict?” He asked in his best ‘grown up reporter’ voice that Hardy loathed. 

“No comment,” Hardy barked as he hung up the phone and hurried up the beech to his crime scene.


	2. Allibi

“DI Hardy, does this have anything to do with the Latimer verdict?” Ellie was fairly certain that was Olly’s muffled voice in the background overlapping Hardy’s goodbye – if you could even call it that since Hardy didn’t bother with trivial niceties like ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ – and she definitely heard Hardy’s curt “no comment,” just before the line went quiet. She pulled the phone away from her ear and looked over the river from the stoop of Hardy’s pathetic little blue rental house. The wave of anger she’d worked herself into at the thought that he’d left without a word receded back into the sea of mistrust that had been constantly lapping at the back of her mind since she’d found out her husband was a monster. A new wave of suspicion began to rise. 

Was Hardy on a _case?_ He’d been released from active duty ages ago and their Sandbrook investigation had been purely under the table until they’d pulled Tess in right at the end. It couldn’t be a case. But why else would he want to meet at the station that neither of them worked at anymore? What else would Olly have to be interrogating him over? She turned to make her way over to the station but checked herself when she remembered he’d said an hour. With a sudden sinking sensation she realized she had nowhere to be and nothing to do for the next hour. Everything she’d filled her time with since she’d found out the horrible truth about her husband was unavailable. Joe’s case was over. She’d gotten leave from the Devon police for the duration of the trial, so she couldn’t get the satisfaction of over-penalizing speeders. The Sandbrook case was solved. Tom was at Lucy’s. She could pick Fred up from the child minder’s, but if Hardy was working on a case that might be premature. She wasn’t meant to meet up with the Lattimers for hours. And then there was Hardy … 

Hardy was ‘ in the middle of something’ … something that he couldn’t talk about. She’d thought they’d broken down most of the secrets between the two of them over the duration of the trial. They’d certainly broken down barriers as they’d spent nearly the whole span of the trial in each other’s company. Between his heart condition and desperation to solve the case that ruined his life and her social isolation and desperation to prove that she wasn’t just the shit detective who’d spent months sleeping next to the murderer she was investigating they’d needed each other.

She sunk down into the sad folding chair as she realized that he’d got past that now. He had a functioning heart and closure on the case. With Joe’s trial over and Claire Ripley in custody there was nothing keeping him here now. She, on the other hand still had a shattered life. True, she’d gotten Tom back and reclaimed their house … but that just meant she had to live in this town. Sure, she’d gained some peace with Beth and Mark but everyone in this town would always look at her with some level of suspicion. Somehow that had been bearable when she had Hardy walking alongside her pushing Fred’s pram. She laughed at the irony that DI Hardy, the damaged hard-boiled detective who was suspicious of everybody, was the only person in her life who hadn’t been treating her with suspicion for the past several months. He said he’d be sticking around for a bit but that could be anything from a few hours to a few weeks, months maybe if she was lucky. Whatever the actual unit of time, a _bit_ had a finite quality to it. He was still leaving eventually. 

She sat there outside of that sad little house for far too long irrationally wanting to freeze it in time. Preserve it as _Hardy’s_ shitty little house, a little time capsule in which to keep her only real supporter through her roughest time. She shook her head of these silly notions and tried to set herself to rights, wiping the tear tracks from her cheeks and turning toward the station.

She realized as she walked into the station that she had no clue where she was meeting Hardy and that she no longer had free roam of the building. “Hiya,” she said to Liam at the dispatch desk, “I’m meant to meet Hardy, do you know where to find him?”

“Hi Ellie, it’s good to see you back. DI Hardy’s up in CID.” Liam’s words were kind, but she’d noted the sad rueful look that had accompanied them. She was so focused on the perceived disapproval on the faces of her former colleagues as she passed that it didn’t hit her until the closing lift doors gave her some solitude that he’d referred to Hardy as a DI. 

She made her way through the CID desks falling back on her typical crutch of overcompensated cheer as her former peers greeted her. She glanced around, noting her own desk empty and abandoned as the day she’d cleared it out, before finally settling her eyes on Hardy sitting in his office as if nothing had changed.

~~~

Hardy stared down at the staggering list in front of him of people that Sharon Bishop had pissed off during the trial:

_  
*Mark Lattimer: Accused of murdering his own son to cover an affair  
*Nigel Carter: Accused of disposing of the body  
*Beth Lattimer: Forced to disclose her husband’s affair publicly, then had said husband accused of murder  
*Lucy Stevens: Accused of perjury  
*Tom Miller: Coerced into perjury by defense team that was exposed by prosecution  
*Becca Fisher: Had her affair brought to light – negative impact on her business  
*Susan Wright: Called by defense but torn apart by prosecution, generally shite behavior  
*Chloe Lattimer: Watched the defense tear her family apart  
*Jocelyn Knight: Came out of retirement for one last case and lost to former protégé (weaker motive)  
*Half the bloody town (including above): angry that she set a murderer free  
*Ellie Miller: Accused of police brutality to force a confession, framing her husband for murder to cover an affair/having an affair with a superior officer, bribing a witness for testimony against the defendant_

He sighed deeply looking at the last name that he hadn’t wanted to write down but had the most motive. He trusted Miller with his life, with Daisy’s life even, but certainly not with Joe Miller’s life and perhaps that extended to the woman who got him out of prison. This could get ugly for her if she didn’t have a good alibi 

“What, they just let anybody in here now?” she joked from the doorway as if his sour meditations had conjured her.

“Miller, good, close the door will you?”

She narrowed her eyes as she complied, “what’s all this about?”

He took his glasses off and gestured with them to the chair across from him, “sit down, will you?” She sat down warily. “Where were you between half three and four pm this afternoon?” He asked and watched her face transform into that stunned, horrified disbelief that she’d worn when he’d told her about Joe.

“What is this?” She asked with an unsteady voice, “you’re reminding me of the worst day of my life right now and you wouldn’t do that for no reason.” He opened his mouth to say something reassuring but she cut him off, “don’t you dare try to call me Ellie right now!”

“Miller,” he said with a sigh, “just answer the question and I can fill you in on what’s going on. You were with me until about three then had to leave, where did you go after that?”

She took a moment to process the question and stiffened a bit. “I was with Beth and Mark Lattimer.”

That answer threw him, he’d known she’d made some attempts to reconnect, but the last he’d seen them together Beth was actively pushing away Miller’s help while she was in labor. “Where were you at?”

“Is this an interrogation?”

“Not an interrogation,” he gave a feeble shrug trying to indicate that he had no choice here, “but I do need to eliminate you as a suspect. Please, Miller, just answer the question.”

“Don’t be nice to me, you never say please!” she quipped in some surprise. A succession of emotions crossed her face before landing on resolution. “At the hut on Briar Cliff beach.”

“You were at the scene of Danny Lattimer’s murder with his parents? The day his murderer was set free?” He asked in shock, “Why?”

She sighed, and continued reluctantly: “we were having a chat with Joe, ensuring he knew the consequences of remaining in town,” she looked at him defiantly as if he would challenge her on this.

On the contrary, he was rather impressed with their tactics. “Quite right,” he said with a hint of a smile before returning to the matter at hand, “so it was you, Beth Lattimer, Mark Lattimer, and Joe Miller?”

“It was the four of us inside, but outside there was Chloe and Tom, Lucy, Olly, Nige Carter ...” he felt his hopes sinking as he checked off the names on his list of suspects, “let’s see … Paul Coates, Maggie Radcliff, and Becca Fisher.”

“Bloody hell Miller, you can’t just alibi the whole damn town!”

“I can if they were there!” she replied frankly.

He squinted his eyes at her and ran a hand over his face, “sounds like quite the party.”

“More like a show of force, everyone was ready to see the back of Joe. We put him in a cab and sent him off to one of Paul’s vicar friends who set him up in a halfway house far far away.”

“I suppose they’ll all corroborate this?”

“Likely, but the CCTV from the hut should show us all as well. It has a good view of the parking lot as I recall.”

He gave a prolonged grunt, “you’ve just eliminated most of my suspects with motive!”

“Motive for what?”

Hardy sighed and looked at Miller, he trusted her and was fairly certain her alibi would check out, though she couldn’t officially investigate the crime until it was corroborated. He decided to just bite the bullet and give her the news now. “Someone’s gone and pushed Sharon Bishop off a cliff.”

“Well,” the look of honest shock and confusion on her face confirmed to him – if not a jury – that she’d had no prior knowledge of the crime, “couldn’t have happened to a nicer person.”

“We don’t choose the victim Miller, and we’ve got to investigate all the same.”

“Still though, she’d probably be second on my list of people I’d like to see take that fall, after Joe of course.”

He shook his head, glad that this interview wasn’t being recorded, “you’re lucky you’ve got witnesses Miller.”

“And lucky that most of my friends do as well,” she smiled in that wide, easy way of hers, “how’d you end up clear of suspicion and back in that seat?”

“I was here staring down Lee Ashworth when it happened. They hadn’t filled the DI position yet, so they had nobody to do the job and Jenkinson asked me nicely to stay.”

“Ah, and I’m sure you weren’t quite so nice in your acceptance?”

“She did sack me not too long ago!” He said defensively.

“Yeah, after your heart exploded on the job.”

“It dinn’a explode,” he groused, “just went a bit wobbly. Anyway, with a clean bill of health and a solid alibi I was her best option.” Remembering Jenkinson’s plans for the position he added, “temporarily,” to tide off any complaints about job theft. 

Rather than relief he saw her smile falter for a moment. “Right, you’re still leaving then. After the case?” 

“Well …” he shrugged, “...Daisy.”

“Yeah,” she said quietly.

“Anyway,” he said as he hopped up from his chair and moved to the door, “I’m off to get the CCTV from the Hut. In the meantime, check in with Jenkinson to get yourself reinstated then see if you can track down Susan Wright and Jocelyn Knight since you’ve gone and cleared all of my other suspects.” 

“Hang on, I’ve got a job thank you. You can’t just give me orders anymore.”

He rolled his eyes at her, “if you’d seriously rather resume traffic duty as a DC in Devon than be a DS in criminal investigation in Broadchurch it’s your prerogative,” he knew that anger was the best fuel to keep her moving right now, so he added as he walked down the hall: “a stupid choice, but yours to make.” He hurried to the lift picturing her indignant face behind him.

“I’m not calling you ‘Sir’ anymore,” she called after him as the lift doors opened and he smiled to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The timeline on the show isn't terribly clear if the confrontation with Joe happened later the day he was released or the next day. For this fic, I'm just saying that everything happened that same day.


	3. On the Case

The meeting with CS Jenkinson was bewilderingly brief. Apparently all Ellie had to do to get her old job back was knock on her office door. Jenkinson looked up briefly, nodded, and handed Ellie her credentials. They were sitting on the desk even, ready and waiting for her return. 

She had a mild burst of anger in the lift back down to CID about Hardy’s presumption that she’d just fall in line and get her job back. The echo of Claire calling her a puppy fueled that anger back to her desk. She was startled out of her pique by unexpected applause from her colleges. It took her a moment to register that they were celebrating her return and welcoming her back. She’d been so certain that they’d all judge her. That they’d always be suspicious that she _had_ either framed Joe or intentionally tampered with his case to set him free that she’d been utterly unprepared for them to be glad she was back. 

Since they knew where Jocelyn lived and she wasn’t much of a flight risk, Ellie started on tracking down Susan Wright. 

“Miller,” Hardy barked as he walked past her desk, “I got the CCTV, c’mon.”

She followed him into his office and he pulled it up. They sped through hours with no movement outside of the wind in the grass until Beth Latimer walked up to the hut supported by Paul Coates. “Timestamp three twenty four,” Hardy muttered as he made the note in his pad. Another two minutes passed before Ellie walked up speaking on her phone. “Who were you talking to?”

“Nigel Carter, him and Mark had gone to fetch Joe.” On the screen, Ellie made several more brief phone calls. “I was rallying the troops, we wanted a show of force.” Hardy just nodded with a grunt as the Ellie in the video entered the hut.

“How long until everything happens?”

“A bit. Long enough for Beth to count all of the knives in the place.”

He raised his eyebrows at her but let the comment go. “How did you lot get access to the hut?”

“Paul got them off the owner, he said the family needed closure,” she replied, “wasn’t wrong I suppose.”

Another five minutes passed as they quietly watched the wind peacefully blowing through the grass along the cliff. It was all the more jarring, then, when the Mark Lattimer Plumbing van lurched into the frame and an irate Mark and Nige rounded to the back and dragged a struggling Joe out. “They won’t have to worry about assault charges, will they?” Miller asked nervously.

“No assault has been reported,” Hardy said with a wry smile. Mark and Joe disappeared and Paul joined Nige outside. Slowly others made their way in frame. Lucy and Tom arrived first, hand in hand. Chloe looked at the hut as if the building itself would hurt her and Ellie felt a surge of pride as Tom shyly approached and offered her a hug of support. Maggie and Ollie joined the group and Ollie fist-bumped Tom in his own special brand of support. Becca Fisher arrived last and stayed on the fringes.

“Why’d ya go and call her?” Hardy asked peevishly, “‘s not like she’s a Broadchurch fixture like the rest.”

“I didn’t call her, that’s on Paul.”

“What? Why?”

“Didn’t you hear? They’re something of an item now.”

“Now that’s just not fair!”

“Why, do you fancy Becca Fisher?” She asked incredulously, the concept of Alec Hardy with a crush had never even occurred to her. He looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. “No! Why didn’t you make a move?” He shifted uncomfortably and wouldn’t make eye contact. Ellie just couldn’t resist the urge to needle him. “Never tell me she turned you down.”

He blushed and sheepishly replied, “she said she’d never know if I was going to die on her.”

She considered the state of his heart condition and asked “well, was she wrong at that point?”

“Probably not,” he said sullenly, “but still … the vicar?”

“Poor thing,” Ellie said and patted him on the shoulder. Rather than petulantly shrugging her off as she’d expected, he sighed and leaned closer into her touch. In all of the times over the past months that he’d tried to comfort her and she’d brushed him off it had never occurred to her that he might’ve been in need of some comfort himself. She’d been so wrapped up in her own personal hell that she’d somehow overlooked the fact that Hardy was preparing to die. Alone. His heart was failing, his wife had betrayed him, his daughter ignored him, she’d never even heard of any other family, and he’d constantly turned to Ellie when he’d had no one else. Her hand remained where it was as they watched Joe reluctantly get in the car. After the cab pulled away the group loitered for another ten minutes or so.

~~~

“Timestamp three fifty two,” Hardy noted again then flopped his pad down on the desk. “Well, there’s half the town with solid alibis,” he sighed. On some level – that he was hesitant to explore further – he was happy that the people Miller loved were cleared of suspicion but it still put him in a difficult position. They did have an assault to solve, after all. He was feeling a bit exposed after their chat about Becca Fisher and her comforting hand on his shoulder felt like it would burn through his suit if it remained there much longer so he stood up and fell back into their familiar routine. “Where are we with Susan Wright and Jocelyn Knight?” He asked gruffly.

“The phone number we have for Susan Wright is inactive. The agent in charge of the caravan park hasn’t seen her for days. We could ask Nige, but other than that we’re at a dead end with her. I figured you’d rather just drop by Jocelyn’s with me.”

“Come on then,” he said as he grabbed his coat and headed to the door, confident that she would follow.

In the car he caught her up to speed on the case with the witness statements from the kids on the beech and preliminary reports from Bishop’s A & E doctors. 

“Are we seriously considering Jocelyn Knight as a suspect?” Miller asked skeptically. 

“We know they’ve got a past together, they were shouting about it in the halls of the courthouse. Jocelyn came out of retirement to try this case and was humiliated by losing to her former protégé …” he shrugged, “granted, it’s not the best motive but it’s what we’ve got.”

“Right, it’s worth having a chat with her. I just don’t know if I see that demure old lady, pillar of local society and member of the Queens Council pushing someone off a cliff.”

“Are you really going to take the ‘nobody from my town’ stance again with me here Miller?” He asked incredulously.

“Are you really going to bring that up right now, Hardy?” She barked back at him in agitation. She took a deep breath and strangled the steering wheel for a long pause before conceding, “yeah, best not.” 

They completed the ride in silence, Miller stewing about his reference to the Lattimer case. Hardy wanted to set her at her ease. He himself could comfortably go days without speaking if the situation didn’t require it of him, but the Miller of a year ago would have filled these rides with effervescent chatter which made her current sullen silences even more difficult to bear.


End file.
